


Dreamless

by AnonymousInquisitor



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Post-Canon, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2014-12-10
Packaged: 2018-02-27 13:10:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2694257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonymousInquisitor/pseuds/AnonymousInquisitor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Solas/Inquisitor. Based after the conclusion on the game and that shocking cliffhanger.] She put an end to her dreams in order to focus... And finds herself surprised when she allows them back in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It’s a month before she is able to truly sleep again, to dream. Slumber without dreams had been a comfort. But, one can only take potions for so long, to hide for so long, and with the Inquisition so busy, after the fight withCorypheus, she could not afford the distraction of her dreams. 

It was a slow process, for the dreams to return. Slow, but pleasant. The loss she had experienced had saddened her, and she worried on the spirits she may have drawn by her troubles and feelings. Perhaps, she needn’t have worried so, _he_ taught her how not to pervert them from their nature, but she still worried so. Cole lingered more, however, due to her hurts. And she reassured him that she would be fine, even torn from something that was part of her. He was among many of the spirits she worried on, though she had no contact with others — he had changed that in her. Made her more aware of the spirits, of the world she had not entirely seen despite being the First of her clan. But, her clan did not dabble in such magics as this. Not as _he_ did. And not only that, but he had taught her more of the Elvhen, the Fade, the Gods and how her people had gotten so many things wrong about their past. He had taught her things that had been forgotten, and showed her how blind she had been to the world.

And now he was gone.

There was no reason, despite promises to speak. He had left so many pieces — she had often thought back on all their conversations — but not enough for her to put it all into one, not enough to give her an answer. He left her mind reeling, trying to find more, to find answers. She asked if they could piece together the orb, since he had been so fascinated but it then lay broken before him. But, he rejected that. Because it would not return what was lost. What, exactly, had been lost? How had he known? What did he know?

Lavellan shook her head, to stir herself from her thoughts. She had long relented that she had known nothing of his actions, his intentions, and would never truly see him again, only the fragments in her dreams. However, she did not stop Leliana from her continued search for the mysterious elf. She was not the only one who sought answers. 

As she laid her head down to sleep, her gaze fixated on the balcony window and out past the expanse of mountains. She wondered on him, if only briefly before, she felt herself slip entirely from herself. She fell into her dreams, easily and allowed her wandering thoughts to halt. The morning would come again soon, and it would not be the time to wander.

\----------------------------------------

She found herself in a place familiar, a forest she had visited once with the clan. It had drawn her attention as a younger woman, the trees had felt alive. There was history there, and something to learn. The clan found nothing of import, and she was not allowed to wander. She had shown signs of magic, and they wanted her to learn. So, she was kept within their watching eyes so that she would not unintentionally draw them into trouble. She was to become the First, as they had not had one for some time.

Lavellen focused, slowly, to allow her mind to become aware of what surrounded her. A dream, this, she could tell. But, it was different… Familiar. It was not as her usual dreams were. Then, she focused on the figure that approached her. Her heart trembled, for a moment, just for a moment before she drew it back and held it steady. She became aware of where she truly was, versus what her mind played. Solas smiled at her, the emotion visible in that gesture alone shook her. 

He didn’t know she knew that he was truly here. He didn’t know that she had learned to distinguish the dreams where he was there, after their time together. And she wouldn’t let him know.

“Did you find anything?” She asked, vaguely. 

His smile faltered for a moment, worried, indicated by the slight downward tilt on the corners of his lips. And she wondered if he could tell that she _knew._

“You said there were some ruins here? You wanted to show me the history here.” It was _her_ dream. She would guide it, if only subtly. She didn’t want him to retreat so quickly. To think that seeing her was a mistake after he had vanished like that. Because, that is what he would think.

“Ah. Yes, it seems that is the case. However, it is late and it would likely be a more opportune time to bring you there when we are both able to see.” Solas spoke, finally, and the smile returned. It was meant for her, that smile. He had never smiled like that when he spoke with any other.

He moved to her, fluidly. He seemed lighter than usual? He had always been lighter in the Fade, he moved without worry, without fear, without doubt. He said things were easier for him, here. And it was evident in the most subtle of his moves, which only further proved that this was no simple dream. He stopped before her, kneeled down. A hand lifted easily, and he cupped her cheek gently within his palm. One thumb stroked her bare cheek, gentle, a whisper of a touch.

And she _hurt._

She steeled her heart, as he had once instructed, for this moment so that she may endure. He would leave again, when she woke. But would he return? She could only hope, and pretend that she did not know it was _him._ Her eyes closed, so as to avoid showing her true emotion. She leaned into his touch, a gentle sigh had slipped past her lips.

He caught her breath with his lips, stealing hers as his hand slipped from her cheek and into her hair. They found purchase there, twining for support as they trapped her as well. Her hands lifted, only to settle on his shoulders. Her fingers tightened as she drew him in closer. It was still gentle, sweet. There was hunger, but it had been carefully restrained. As she drew back, he pressed in again.

The demand was there, this time. The hand in her hair released her, only to find her thigh as its partner did the same. He drew her in, and then guided her down. She pulled away, again, though reluctant in nature. She breathed, and he did not swallow this, for now.

“Solas…?”

His lips found her neck, and her breath escaped in a sigh. Her head tilted back, and she relinquished herself to him. 

“Vhenan.”

She did not know which of them had spoken. Perhaps both.

Her eyes opened. She found herself in Skyhold. The cold air from the open balcony brought a shiver. She was alone.

For the first time since the anchor was placed upon her hand, she wept.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled with the decision to add smut into this chapter, one reason being that I've not written such content before. So, I suppose we'll count this as an attempt and as a warning.

Lavellan laid her head down upon the pillow of her bed, soft and fluffy as it was. Sleep came easier these last few days, sweeping her easily into slumber the moment she had closed her eyes. He was there, again, when she settled into a sleep she was more aware of. She felt _him_. As she focused, the vibrant greens of the pine trees filled her gaze, the scent of the fresh air came to her next and she breathed deeply. This forest, she was not familiar with. Was this a place of memory for him? Or, had he made this place of his imagination? She knew this dream was not of her control, his presence was far stronger here.

“Come, vhenan.” His words startled her from her from her thoughts, they drew her eyes to him before they pulled at her. She felt compelled to obey, and stepped forward to meet him.

His hand extended as she approached, and she lifted her own to slide into his larger one. His fingers grasped, gently, and pulled her in close. She stood not even a breath away from him, far sooner than she had anticipated to move. She did not, however, protest. His hand dropped from hers and wrapped around her waist. His face tilted, pressed into her and he breathed deep. His words were soft murmurs, elven, certainly… But why would he speak the more ancient tongue? It was curious. She did not ask, did not wish to drive him away. She walked on fragile ice, but she did not want to be without him, even in this.

“I have missed you.” He breathed out before he inhaled once more. 

She had almost laughed at his words. He, who had left _her_ , claimed to miss her. He who had ended things without an explanation. As if he had feared she would reject him? Spurn him? Even this, she didn’t know to be truth.

“Really? Where have I gone?” She teased, instead, with a soft chuckle. In her dreams, he had never left. And, if he thought himself to be a presence hidden in her dream, she would indulge him. 

He said nothing, at first. And, she did not press him for answers. Her hand lifted, instead, and settled on the back of his neck. Her fingers teased the skin, gentle, in a motion that had meant to be soothing while the other rested gingerly across his shoulder blades and pulled him in closer to her bosom.

“Vhenan’ara… You have always been just out of my grasp. So strong in all you’ve faced, never wavering from what you’ve believed to be right.” His head lifted, his eyes met her own. They spoke volumes, spoke of troubles that weighed on his mind and something more.

Even in their dreams, he was cryptic, leaving her with more questions that she would gain no answers to. Her hands retreated from their positions, instead, coming to frame his face between gentle palms. Her thumbs stroked his cheeks, while her eyes searched his for answers. They, however, betrayed nothing of which he spoke. And, rather than linger, she leaned in to press her forehead against his.

“You are far too harsh on yourself. You do not give yourself enough credit.” She whispered as she tilted her head to brush her nose gingerly against his.

Solas let out a sound, akin to a grunt, in a refusal. She would have said more, to try and reassure him. Her lips had moved to form the words, but they were stolen by his lips before they could be voiced. He shifted to stand upon his feet while he drew her all the more closer. His hand found her hair, twining with the locks as its partner settled on the swell of her rear.

Yet again, however, he was the first to pull away from the kiss. It was hardly a surprise, considering. He often was in control, a force of dominance though entirely subtle. Hardly anyone would consider this elf quiet and rather unassuming, in appearance, was one to be in such control. She, however, knew of this when he had once mentioned interest in seeing her… Dominated. He had spoken of her will and her focus, but, it hardly sounded that way. 

His eyes searched hers, now, as hers had moments ago. She showed no sign that she _knew_ and smiled. He returned it, with a touch of relief visible in his expression before it melted into the one only she had grown familiar with. This smile was for her alone, filled with emotions, a touch of mischief and curiosity but loving all in one.

While his smile was more obvious, his eyes held the more subtle emotions. She had only begun to understand them, and still struggled in her attempts to understand. But this time? The words were as plain as day, words he dared not to say aloud: _‘Ar lath ma, vhenan._ ’She, selfishly, dared him with a look of her own. Both of them were selfish creatures, she in her desire to hear the words, and him for invading her dreams. Neither of them spoke of true intentions, dancing to a song of their own making, of their own ruin. They played their parts with no truths spoken, except that which was entirely innocent. 

His eyes narrowed, darkened with mischief and his desire, but carefully restrained. No more would they speak on “serious” matters, even if those matters were only within this realm they had created for themselves. The hand that had twisted into her hair slipped free, and the one that held her rear shifted upwards. Her hands released him, lifting as he teased the hem of her shirt. Undressing was never a rush between them. It was a slow, loving process, to expose one another. The fabric went over her head, but paused just before passing her eyes. He stole a kiss, sweet and gentle that earned a laugh from her.

The shirt was gone in the next moment, his hands dropped to the pants she wore but she halted him with a gentle touch. Her fingers repeated the actions of his own, gently teasing the hem of his shirt, but instead of pulling the shirt, itself, she played along his skin with whispering touches that dragged the shirt upwards as she moved. The fabric was removed from his person, though her fingers returned to linger and play along the taut muscles of his chest before they settled on his shoulders.

Solas’ hands returned to her waist, encompassing her before they worked at the fabric and loosened it so that he could pull it downwards before she stepped from them. Once she was free of all coverings, he grinned a devilish smile — just like the time when he first took her into the fade. He was so proud of himself, so mischievous. She resisted the urge to laugh yet again.He lifted her, settled her legs around his waist and held her there as he, again, took a seat. 

She shifted, angled herself to be slightly above him, only to lean down into him. Her nose again teased against his, gentle whispers of love without words passed between them. She leaned in closer, her head tilted as if to brush her lips against his. And they did, in a whisper that barely made contact before she drew away. This time, _he_ would come to her. The growl that came from the almost contact drew a soft breath of laughter from her. She mirrored his grin, and claimed victory when he closed the distance between them. 

His teeth caught her bottom lip between them, instead of her lips being caught with is. She did not contain the breathy moan that had escaped, too surprised to be on the alert for rogue sounds. 

“Ah. You do know better than to tease.” His tone was playful, though spoken on his breath.

She defied him with a look, and he laughed in response. Another kiss, pressed gently to her lips before he again shifted their positions. She, instead, was settled in his seat, placed their so gently as if she were made of glass. 

Her toes curled, feeling the grass beneath them while he kneeled before her. Fingers clenched the seat, in anticipation. Her eyes clouded with lust, focused upon him. His eyes met hers, they dared her to watch him. Dared her not to look away. And, she wasn’t sure if she had ever wanted to look away from him.

“Spread your legs.”

Even if she had the mind to disobey his order, she likely would not have. She was not reluctant in her movement, as she spread for him without hesitation. His hands rested on her knees, slid  her thighs and rested, finally, upon her hips while he kissed a path from her knee inwards. This knee was lifted, and settled over his shoulder as he paved his way closer to her core.

“Do you know how often I dream of you? You draw my thoughts when I’m awake, distracting me from my task… I should be focused elsewhere, yet, I cannot find it in me to stop.”

She hummed a response. More of a moan, if she had been truthful with herself. Lashes lowered, briefly, but still her gaze remained upon him, focused. He spoke still, but the words had been lost on her. They did not matter, in the end, however. He drew her closer,  and she felt as if she was on fire. The path left by his mouth upon her thigh burned and felt as if the marks of his lips would be there when she woke. His hands held her tighter as he kissed her folds, first. A breathy moan followed, she pressed forward but he held her still. _He_ was in control, of her movements, of the situation, of this dream.

“Solas…” 

She urged him with his name, but he did not relent to her desires. He pressed another kiss, drew another moan and her head tilted slightly backwards. Eyes dilated, her bottom lip drawn between her teeth and worked at while she desperately tried to push her hips forward for more contact. He did not allow it. His lips curled into a grin against her before his tongue set to work.

She cried out, both in the Fade and outside. She had felt the breath leave her lungs, the cry work past her throat and was thankful that her room was located so far from the others. What would they think, had they heard her?

Teeth dug into the flesh of her thigh, starling her with a gasp. She looked down, and he looked up. 

“Do not let your mind wander. Focus only on me.”

He was possessive, in these times they were so close, so connected. Her cheeks flushed in protest, embarrassment evident.

“I am--"

“Not.”

She made to say more, her mouth opened to add further protests and the words became a moan as his tongue teased at her clit. Her hips surged forward, out of his grasp until he held her firmly again. His tongue twisted and teased expertly, her head dropped back and she keened a desperate moan. She tried to press against him, tried to gain more contact that he denied her. This only seemed to spur him on, as gentle became more vigorous and focused.

“Solas… _Please.”_

Her final cry, that of desperation, begging for him to let her reach her release. He drew it out, still, before he pressed in closer and wrapped his lips around the bundle of nerves. He suckled, and she broke with a scream. His hands released her hips, allowing her the freedom of riding her orgasm against him before she melted and sagged into the seat. As she caught her breath, Solas rose with that fire still in his eyes.

His hand caught the back of her head, tilted her back before his lips devoured hers. She tasted him, tasted herself, and breathed in the scent of her upon him. She moaned into the kiss, lost in a fervent haze. Her eyes closed, and she melted into him again. He drew back before he pressed forward again, his lips more gentle as they moved against hers. She was content.

When her eyes opened again, the forest was replaced with hard stone and the smell of the pine replaced with the lingering smell of firewood from the hearth. She was alone again, in this large bed of hers. An arm draped itself over her eyes as she tried to catch her breath. Her mind reeled, and remembered the last words he spoke against her lips.

_“It’s time to_ wake up. _”_


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This certainly took longer than planned. Far too many ideas kicking around in my head. I struggled with this one and the direction this would lead us.
> 
> We'll see where the next chapter goes. Maybe the end? I didn't have an end goal in mind as I started this. 
> 
> My next work, however, has a much longer story planned.
> 
> Thank you all for indulging me as I get back into writing.

He had been right, of course, that she had needed to wake. Cullen was in her room in the next moment, she could tell by the way the door hit the wall when it was thrown open. His steps were uneven going up the stairs, frantic, worried. Her arm lifted and she turned her gaze to consider her Commander with a concerned frown. 

“Th-There were…” He started, cheeks flushed, the man out of breath. “Reports that… Well. They were… Clearly wrong.” He cleared his throat with a cough that he covered with his first.

The Inquisitor sat up and looked to the man with a concerned frown. Reports? She could only imagine what sort of reports. She knew she had been far from quiet in her sleep, that she had released her cries out loud. Perhaps they had told her apostate lover had scaled the wall in the middle of the night to make love to her, from the way she cried out. None of her inner circle or her advisors had been pleased with the man.

And, of course, it was Cullen who had burst in versus Josephine or Leliana, who would have shown a little more decorum.

She smiled at him and shook her head, “nothing has happened, Cullen, I am fine.” She promised, though she wondered if her eyes had spoken otherwise because his expression had softened just a touch.

There had been feelings, once, she imagined. They had spent time together, playing chess quietly, when they could manage to slip in a game between their duties or when she had not been drawn into Solas’ tales of his explorations in the Fade, or when they had not found a book to go over together. Books of Elvhen lore, myths, and mysteries. She knew those feelings lingered, from that look on his face. Yet, neither of them neverof it.

His protection of her also spoke volumes.

“That’s… Good. Yes.” He turned another shade of red and she restrained her laugh.

“We are leaving today. Thank you for the wake up reminder. Let me know when we’re ready to depart? There are some finer details I need to work out…” She said softly as she slid one leg over the corner of the bed, and then the second followed. 

Cullen’s gaze dropped before he cleared his throat yet again. “Of course. And… Lavellan,” he only called her such in private, in softer moments. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“I will. I promise.”

He nodded, and departed with only a lingering look. He, himself, did not linger. It was for the best. Her heart was still not her own, would never truly be her own again. It was not something she could give twice.

\-----------------------

The Inquisition forces departed from Skyhold within a few hours. Their goals were simple: close more rifts, visit cities along the way and ensure they were not without aid and well protected from any rifts in the area that hadn’t yet been closed. There were still many rifts, all over Thedas, that needed to be closed. With Corypheus defeated, they had some downtime to accomplish that.

This expedition was to be the first of many, a month or two before they would return to Skyhold. Josephine and Leliana attended to the hold while Cullen led this expedition at Lavellan’s side. Varric, Dorian, Bull, and Cole had also departed with her, volunteers and they had refused to allow her to say no. Not that she would have.

As the sun set, they set up camp. She was tempted to sleep, tempted to see if she could find him again. Or, to see if he would find her. 

“It probably isn’t good for your health to sigh so often, Inquisitor.” Varric’s voice shook her from her thoughts and she gave the dwarf a sheepish smile.

“Was I sighing? A clear sign that I should probably rest.” 

“I… Don’t think that’s the case. You’ve been sleeping a lot more often these days. The kid’s worried about you. He’s hardly left your side this whole trip, and he… Well, he’s worried about you.” Varric started and she felt her cheeks flush. _He_ knew, which meant Bull and Dorian knew. Cole meant well, of course, but he likely had told the three of a certain elf’s visits.

“It’s not that bad. I promise. He… Clearly has something going on. And I have all this to attend to. We can’t just…” Talk about it. Get answers. Be upfront. Meet face to face. Something.

“Right. Just… Don’t keep it all to yourself, okay? Sparkler’s causing a fuss, and Tiny is more concerned than he’s letting on.” Varric smiled, a crooked sort but one that she knew to be genuine. 

“When I’m ready to talk, I’ll let you all know.” It was a promise, one she didn’t need to declare. He knew. She then turned her gaze to where Cole sat, the spirit watched on with concern. “I’ll talk to Cole.”

A nod was her answer and she pushed up to her feet, she came to stand near the young man. Not quite a man, but still in the form of one. Her eyes shifted to concern as he looked sadly upon her. She knew he had felt her pain, knew he took it on himself to try and help. The poor dear. Even he had been hurt by Solas’ departure, a love of a different sort. Someone who understood him had just… Left. And took some of those memories away, leaving them all without knowledge of where he had gone. Or, what he had intended.

“You hurt. Less so, but the hurt is still there. He comes, like a dream. He’s there, but he isn’t. You play games, you lie and he lies and you’re both… Okay.” 

“It’s a weird game. I think it’s easier than talking.” She said softly, and she saw the confusion that came next.

“It would hurt less if you talked. If he talked. You must talk to him, so the hurts will stop and you can be _happy_.”

She placed a gentle hand upon his head, smiled a touch wider and nodded. “Maybe I’ll do that. Just… Not now. Soon. When we’re not traveling.”

He smiled then, not as wide but it was a smile. He nodded and she pulled her hand away. She turned, examined the camp and then quietly departed from their gaze. None would question her going to her tent, to her desire to rest. After all, they had many more days of travel and to be at one’s best, they needed to be fully rested.

She felt a touch of guilt, for longing for her dreams more than she had desired to be awake. She was selfish in that she wanted to see him. And then selfish for the fact that she hoped that she wouldn’t. It would have been easier on the both of them, if she learned to keep him out and if he didn’t come to see her.

She found herself upon the makeshift bed, reminded of her clan. Her eyes lidded more quickly than she had hoped to, and shifted from waking to dreaming even more quickly than the rest.

\------------------

His breath was on her ear, his hands were on her hips. His fingers teased the waistband of her smalls through the thin fabric of her nightshift. His lips teased along her ear, before his teeth replaced them with gentle nibbles until he reached her earlobe. He drew it into his mouth, suckled and nibbled and pulled a soft whine from her throat.

“Solas.” She breathed. She was not prepared for this. She expected them to dance around one another, to play their previous games. This? This was not what she had expected so soon into her sleep.

“Shh.” The gentle hiss of his breath drew a shudder as it teased her ear. “Soon. I hear you are traveling…” 

His fingers tugged again, teasing and then he pushed her smalls downwards. She wiggled her hips, and lifted hers to tug them down further, until she could use only her legs to remove them. Once freed, she leaned back into the man behind her while his hands smoothed along the inside of her thighs, stroking upward with long fingers. Soft sighs escaped her lips, her head tilted back into him, nuzzling. His lips pressed to her forehead, gently, loving. Her eyes closed and she melted into him, got lost in him, the feeling of him. It wasn’t just the kisses, or the touching that made her this way.

He shifted her, tilted her head in the other direction as he kissed along her jaw and down to her neck. Teeth sunk into the skin at the junction where her neck met her shoulder, drawing a moan and a shudder before she arched into him. Her thighs spread and his fingers trailed up, closer to her core. They stroked, teasing, before one finger slid slowly in. He drew it out, slowly and she clenched around him. A second joined the first and her hips surged forward, downwards, somewhere to get more friction. To have more contact. To greedily take him. 

Lavellan lifted an arm, slowly, angled to rest on the back of his neck and she stroked the skin, teasing. She felt him smile against her neck, and her second hand slipped behind her, between them and sought his manhood. She found the head, already slick, and curled her palm gently around it before she stroked downwards. He jerked into her with a hiss before he drove his fingers into her as slowly as she had slid down his shaft.

No words passed between them, unneeded for the moment in which they gave one another pleasure using only their hands. She squeezed and he teased, her hips jerked and his ground. Her head fell back into him again, and his lips teased exposed skin. Abruptly, his fingers slid from her and his other drew her hand from him. She twisted, withdrawing her hand from his shoulder while the other remained trapped. She had no desire to be free of him. The free arm found the back of his head, pulled him into her and _she_ stole his lips, this time. 

They did not fight for dominance, did not seek to overpower the other. It was a mutual effort, a meeting of the lips, a twining of their tongues before _she_ pulled away first. She leaned in, breathed in his scent though it was different in the Fade, it was still him. His hand released her arm, only to take it back into his hand and the other sought the partner. He cradled both hands, lovingly. 

“I will have you, ma sa’lath.” Her hands gripped his as she spoke, her eyes told of her refusal to be denied.

His blue eyes held no wish to deny her. “Ma nuvenin, vhenan.” He drew her hand upward, turned it and pressed a kiss to the palm before he drew her back with him.

He lowered himself to the ground, her hands released for that brief moment before she lowered herself over him, her hands upon his shoulders as she grounded herself. His hands found her cheeks, then slid into her hair before he drew her in yet again. Their kisses had become gentler, teasing, brief rather than hungry and demanding. The dream had started so, but, there was no need to rush.

She applied weight to his shoulder, to guide him to the ground. One hand in her hair freed itself to brace his elbow on the ground, but allowed her to push him to the ground. She held him there with one hand, while the other escaped to trace a pattern down his chest. Blue eyes closed and she continued to watch him with a curious look.

When she reached his manhood and gently cradled it, he groaned softly and pressed into the gentle cradle of his hand. She debated teasing him, drawing it out but she was not so cruel. She said she would have him but the truth was that she _needed_ him. She lifted her hips, teased the head of him to her entrance. She teased him a little more by pressing down, into him, but not allowing him to enter. 

Solas’ hiss was almost feral, almost desperate, but he was always in control. He did not allow himself to break. She leaned down, brushed a kiss to his lips before she sank downwards and took him all with one stroke. They cried in unison, her back arched away from him, her head tilted back while he pressed forward, deeper into her and he reached for her. 

His hands settled on her hips, fingers dug into the flesh there. He lifted her, slowly, and then guided her back downwards in a movement that felt like eternity. She cried out in anguish, attempted to push him in faster but he held true.  

Her eyes opened and she tilted a look down to him, meeting blue eyes with her own. He smiled, wicked but loving. He mouthed words at her, but said nothing. Cheeks flushed with color before he thrust deeply into her. No further protests were made, silent or otherwise. He controlled the pace, tonight. 

It was an intricate dance, the one he led her through. Slow, torturous movements that made her cry for more, that dug her fingers into him as she squirmed for a little _more_ , a little more contact, a little more something. Another time, the steps would come faster, focused only on him, and she was satisfied to indulge him. The final part of the dance made her toes curl, her eyes roll back, and scream. His pace drifted between these three, until she could take no more.

“ _Fuck_ me, Solas.” Don’t play games. He grinned at her, and rolled her beneath him in a fluid motion.

He kissed her again, his hands upon her cheeks again while her legs wrapped greedily around him.He filled her with no reserve, long, deep strokes that filled her entirely and hit the deepest part of her. He swallowed her moans and cries, swallowed her begging but gave her more for each plea.

She found release with him, his thrust hitting her core before she shattered. She shuddered, her walls clenched tightly and his final thrust was erratic. He released within her, filled her without a care. In this land of dreams, they had no worries. 

He collapsed beside her, spent, and she rolled into him. One leg draped over his waist and she felt him spill from her. Her lips found his shoulders, her teeth teased the skin there. And as her eyes closed, she muttered softly: “ _Ar lath ma, vhenan._ I _will_ see you soon.”

She felt him tense against her, her lips curled in a smile and blue eyes searched her. She met his gaze with hers. His features shifted from one of utter contentment to one that realized that their game was over. That she had known far more than she had revealed. 

There was no escape.


End file.
